


Reflections

by asamandra



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Imperfections, M/M, Quirks, Sleeping Clint, Sleeping Tony, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-20 13:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1511465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asamandra/pseuds/asamandra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watching him sleep...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was late, very late. Or early. Depending on the perspective. Tony was tired and he had looked at the cot in his lab for a very long moment but then he _remembered_ a certain archer sleeping in his bed and he left the lab. It was warm and Tony was greeted by a stark naked Clint, lying on top of the covers. He didn't wake up when he entered the bedroom and Tony felt something warm melting in his chest. He went to the bathroom, undressed and threw the dirty clothes into the hamper before he washed away the _grime_ of two days in the lab. But when he fell into his bed, as naked as Clint, he couldn't drop off immediately. He propped on his elbow and looked at the sleeping man beside him. That he still was asleep was a statement per se. It was astounding how different Clint looked when he slept. Younger, vulnerable and really, really beautiful. 

He lay mostly on his back but turned a little bit to the side, one leg stretched out, the other one bent and folded under the stretched one. His left hand was on his chest and he had his head on the right one.

Tony watched him, saw his chest move slightly and his peaceful expression let his heart beat faster. 

He had to admit he loved to watch the younger man and he had to restrain himself from touching him, waking him. Yes, Clint wasn't beautiful in a classical sense but for him, Tony, he was the most beautiful man in the world. He wasn't perfect but that fact _was_ what made him perfect. Tony hated perfectness even if no one ever believed him. He had dated perfect people, women and men, and they all had bored him to death. There was nothing to _look_ at. A research study said that most people thought that people with symmetric faces were the most attractive but Tony never thought so. Once again he looked at Clint. His nose was a little bit too broad, his chin was a little bit too small, his smile was crooked and he always pressed his beautiful lips to a tight line, his skin wasn't even but Tony loved every little _flaw_. When he and Clint came out to the public as couple the reporters had asked him why he had chosen him of all people and Tony had tried to tell them. No one had understood him. But that didn't matter. Clint's _imperfectness_ made him perfect in Tony's eyes. 

He looked at his body, at the scars, the slightly too muscular arms, his oddly shaped nails, the few hairs on his chest, the happy trail from his navel to his crotch, his now soft genitals and all the way down to his ridiculous small feet. He had a birthmark on his hip and Tony had kissed it so often in the last few months. He really loved everything about him. He loved his spiky hair, his sharp eyes, his intelligent mind, his lush lips that only he knew about, he loved the way his muscles flexed when he moved his arms, the way he held his tongue between his lips when he wrote, the way he laughed, god, he _really_ loved his laugh, he loved the way Clint looked at him and cast his eyes down before he would tell him that he loved him, he loved the mischievous glint in his eyes when he played a prank and the way they went wide-eyed innocent when someone asked him if he knew about it, he loved...

“Stop that,” Clint mumbled sleepily and Tony couldn't suppress a tiny chuckle. 

“What, I haven't done anything,” he whispered. 

“You're staring at me. I can feel your eyes on me.” Clint's eyes were still closed but he had a smile on his lips and Tony knew that he meant it. Somehow he could feel when one looked at him. And finally he opened one eye and looked back. Tony couldn't help himself but lean in and kiss him. This was always way too adorable to not do it, the way he squinted one eye shut, the way his hair stood in every direction and the way he pursed his lips. 

“Did I tell you that I love you lately?” Tony asked when Clint raised one brow and the younger man burst out a small laugh and shook his head. 

“No, not in the last two days,” he smirked and Tony leaned in again, this time he took his time, touched Clint's lips with his tongue and he opened his mouth and let him in, let him explore and suck and nibble and Tony heard a tiny moan. 

“Love you,” he whispered into his mouth and Clint chuckled again but didn't break the kiss.

“Love you, too.” Clint murmured and moved back a bit. “Can't sleep?” 

Tony sighed and nodded and Clint kissed his nose with a smirk before he manhandled him around, pressed his chest against Tony's back, wrapped one arm around his waist and kissed his neck. 

“Better?” he asked and Tony nodded. 

“Yeah, much better.” He didn't realize that he drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face.


	2. Chapter 2

It hadn't been a difficult mission, it was just that it took a long time. Time Clint had spent alone in a godforsaken area of the world, searching – and finding – another Hydra-base, infiltrating it, stealing their data and destroying the base. Well, and a lot of their grunts and scientists. 

When he came home, tired, dirty and hungry he found the penthouse empty. Of course. He was pretty sure that Tony had spent most of _his_ time down in his workshop slash lab slash garage to kill the time. 

And yes, when he entered the room, after a quick shower and munching an apple, as quiet as possible he found him, sitting on one of the rolling stools, his feet propped behind the wheels to keep the chair in it's spot, his head on his arms lying half over the workbench and sound asleep. Clint went closer to him and couldn't suppress a smile. His mouth was open a fraction and he snored slightly, drooling onto his arm. He had dirt in his hair, some white powdery stuff, and grime on his cheeks. Beside him on the workbench Clint saw the mug he had brought him from a mission in Turkey, still half filled with now cold coffee. And then he realized that Tony wore one of his shirts, just a simple one with the SHIELD logo on it but he saw, that it was one he had put into the hamper. There was still the gun oil stain on it's sleeve. Clint couldn't repress the urge to caress Tony's head and the older man mumbled something unintelligible into his beard and shifted slightly but didn't wake up. The fact that Tony wore one of his shirts, a dirty shirt he might add, was the closest he would ever come to a confession that he really had missed him. 

Usually Tony didn't wear something twice, not even when he just pulled it out of his closet, tried it on and decided against it. He would throw the item into the dirty laundry nevertheless. Yet he sat here and wore one of Clint's worn shirts with stains on the sleeve and he could only smile happily at the sight. 

Clint could understand his doubts after all the _relationships_ he had had. Lot's of the people who dated Tony were with him only to be seen, to get into the media, to get famous, some of them were with him because of his money, some because of both. And Clint was sure that – after all the time they were together now – Tony sometimes asked himself if he wasn't with him because of the same reasons. He remembered Tony's baffled expression when he, Clint, had asked him out on a date and refused to let him pay. He had told Tony, that when he asks someone out, he pays. It didn't matter that Tony could probably buy the whole block, he had payed for their food in the restaurant. And Tony was pleasantly surprised he could tell. 

He took the mug with the cold coffee, emptied it into the sink and rinsed it out. On his way back to the workbench where Tony still slept he thought about the first time after they were _officially_ dating he was down here. Tony had played a song from Kiss, ' Do you love me'. He sat there, quiet, fiddling with one of the things he always fiddled around with when he didn't want to look into someone's eyes and murmured, that he sometimes thought this song could be his theme song. Clint had put his finger under his chin, forced him to look up, kissed his nose and had told him that he really didn't like limousines but him, Tony, all the more. Tony had huffed a laugh but it was obvious that he wasn't convinced. And even if no one would ever believe him, but Tony was really insecure and it wasn't that Tony didn't trust him, he just was deceived too often and Clint was so angry at all of them for hurting Tony.

Clint leaned over the older man and kissed his temple and he again mumbled something into his beard and tried to shoo away the disturber. Clint chuckled slightly and shook Tony's shoulder. 

“Hey, hun. I'm home,” he whispered and this time Tony opened one eye. “Hey,” Clint repeated and Tony closed his mouth audibly. 

“H'w l'ng'r'y're?” _How long are you here?_

“Just a few minutes,” he said and finally Tony lifted his head and looked bleary-eyed at Clint. He chuckled again, leaned over and wiped away the spit from Tony's chin. “How long were you here?” 

“Just a few hours,” Tony yawned and Clint raised his brow.

“Jarvis?” He asked and the AI told him, that he was for fifty-nine hours straight in his lab.

“Traitor,” Tony mumbled but he rose and when he staggered and Clint grabbed his arm he smiled at him thankfully. On their way to the elevator the older man leaned against Clint's shoulder. It was another sign of his now unconditional trust that he didn't care to show a weakness around Clint and Clint had sworn to himself that he would never betray this trust. He had sworn it when Tony had given him the access to his penthouse. 

Tony had opened his tower to all of the Avengers, had given them a home and a _family_ , had given them everything all of them wanted, a gym, a range, a dance studio, an unlimited amount of punching bags, stuff like that but the penthouse was Tony's refuge, his hideout. He had lived there with Pepper but when she had dumped him he had thrown out everything, really everything, and rebuilt it. And only Tony had access to it. It took some time but when Tony finally had given Clint a key to the elevator he, Clint, knew that he was serious about their relationship. And this was the day where he had sworn to himself to never betray Tony's trust, he loved him way too much to ever do that to him. 

Together they entered the bedroom and Tony stumbled to the bed and fell into it, face first, with a grunt. 

“Nope,” Clint chuckled and removed shoes and pants but when he wanted to peel him out of the stained shirt Tony whined quietly.

“Come on, I like that shirt. It smells like... like you.” 

“I'm here, Tony. And the shirt is dirty. Come on, let's get you out of it and then we're going to bed.” 

“You're staying?” Tony's voice sounded muffled.

“Of course. I'm on leave for the next month.” Clint could finally remove the dirty shirt before he stripped himself and when he climbed into the bed Tony crawled up to him. Clint turned him to his side and took the place behind him, wrapped his arm around his waist and kissed his neck. 

“Love you,” Clint said and Tony hummed.

“Love you, too.” And then, after a long while – Clint was almost asleep – he murmured. “I've missed you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Kiss - Do you love me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aQ-GDObOIKE)

**Author's Note:**

> [asamandra on tumblr](http://asamandra.tumblr.com/)


End file.
